#CEILING why are rules weird
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thatoneluckybee · 1 year ago
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...was anyone going to tell me that "rolling your eyes" was just. looking up briefly while someone is speaking or was i supposed to know that—
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ddejavvu · 2 months ago
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hiii, oml I saw that you wanted requests for marauders and this one has been itching my brain. so I’d love to know their reactions if their s/o did something disgusting, maybe just eating a weird food combo, my friends always look at me weird because I like eating chicken nuggets and fries with chocolate ice cream, or could just be smth like eating food that fell on the floor, not sure what comes to your mind but whatever you want! thank youuu and have a good day!
"She's doing it again." Sirius's nose scrunches, and he looks firmly away from where you're layering thick, melting layers of peanut butter over a warm cheese sandwich.
"Oh, darling-" James glances up at the ceiling like it'll distract him, but he can still hear the squelching of the peanut butter trying and failing to mingle with the greasy cheese. "We've talked about this."
"It's my favorite!" You plead, sucking a smear of peanut butter off of the pad of your thumb, "You guys eat gross stuff all the time, I don't understand why you always have to get on me about mine!"
"Because it's disgusting." James declares with a tone of finality you'd hear from a professor, "Peanut butter and cheese do not mix. Literally, darling, look at that. The cheese is rejecting the peanut butter. It's trying to save itself from its unholy fate."
The cheese has melted but is starting to harden again, a greasy seal around the gooey melted parts that's preventing the peanut butter from blending fully. But it's no matter, it'll mix in your mouth. You're well aware that your culinary preferences are not for everyone, but you'd like to eat one meal without probing from your dining partners.
"It's pretty gross." Remus admits with a grimace, like he's reluctant to tease you but just can't hold himself back, "It sort of makes my stomach hurt just watching."
"You eat live rabbits," You round on Remus with a piercing glare, "I watched you skin a rat down to the bone. I don't ever want to hear you talk about my eating habits. And you," You direct your attention to Sirius, "Frequently chew on sticks. From the woods. From the dirty, filthy, nasty woods. And you!" James looks like he's prepared for this, to take a turn facing your wrath, "You scoop food up off of the floor! Any floor! The five-second rule should not apply in a dusty dungeon corridor."
You raise the sandwich, dripping with peanut butter and oil, like it's your trophy. You take a triumphant bite while your horrified onlookers find themselves unable to look away, and you speak proudly through a full mouth, "Mine's not raw, bloody, dirty, or dusty, so you can all shut your mouths if you've not got sticks or rabbits in them."
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scoupsakakitty · 2 months ago
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Hii hellooo, may i have a request like svt 14th fem member youngest like they care abt platonically and protective specially when there's some male idol who wants to hit on her? Or like whenever they are shooting and some people stare at her, or during live some like that and like they become protective but the reader doesn't have any clue thank youu
Unspoken Rules | Seventeen x 14thMember | fluff
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"Y/N, stand over here," Seungcheol murmured, subtly guiding her to the middle of the group as they prepared for a live broadcast.
Y/N blinked up at him, confused. "Why? What's wrong with my spot?"
"Nothing. Just... better camera angle," he answered smoothly, glancing over at Joshua, who was already nodding in silent agreement.
"Right," Y/N said, unconvinced but not questioning it further.
The members had always been protective of her—she was their youngest, after all. But lately, something had been feeling... off. Like there were unspoken rules she wasn't aware of.
The broadcast started, and everything seemed normal—until she noticed the way Jeonghan casually placed a hand on the back of her chair whenever a certain male idol sitting across from them spoke to her. Or how Mingyu laughed a little too loudly whenever she responded to said idol’s questions, effectively drowning out the conversation.
It wasn’t until later, when she scrolled through comments, that she saw fans noticing it too.
"LMAO the way Seventeen turns into a human shield whenever a guy talks to Y/N." "DK literally just changed the topic mid-sentence when that dude asked for her number." "Do they realize she’s an adult? 😭"
Her eyebrows furrowed.
"Okay," she started as she marched into their waiting room, crossing her arms. "What is going on?"
The room went silent. Some members pretended to check their phones, others suddenly found their drinks very interesting.
"You guys are acting weird," she pressed.
"We're always weird," Vernon pointed out, unhelpfully.
"Don't change the subject!" She narrowed her eyes. "Tell me why you guys keep acting like my personal security team every time a guy so much as looks at me."
A long pause. Then, Woozi sighed, rubbing his temples. "Look, Y/N, you’re our little sister. We don’t trust these guys."
"Yeah," Hoshi nodded seriously. "Some of them seem... too interested."
"Too interested?" she repeated, confused.
"Like, flirting," Jun clarified, making a face as if the word itself was offensive.
Her jaw dropped. "Wait. You guys think they—?" She burst out laughing. "You guys are ridiculous."
Seungkwan scoffed. "Oh yeah? Tell that to the dude who tried to ask for your number last week."
"What?! When? Who?"
"Exactly," Dino muttered. "You don’t even notice."
Minghao crossed his arms. "That’s why we have to."
Y/N stared at them, realizing just how deep their protectiveness ran. It wasn’t just playful big-brother energy—they genuinely looked out for her.
She sighed, shaking her head. "And what if I want to finally meet someone? What if I wanted to give him my number?" She looked at them, exasperated. "You guys can’t protect me forever."
Seungcheol, who had been quiet until now, leaned forward, his voice firm but gentle. "Yes, we can. And we will. Until we know for sure that the guy is good enough for you."
The room hummed in agreement.
"Exactly." "Facts." "Scoups speaks for all of us."
Y/N groaned dramatically and fell backward onto the couch, staring at the ceiling. "I can’t win against you guys, can I?"
"Nope," Jeonghan grinned, ruffling her hair again.
She huffed but couldn't help the small smile creeping onto her face. Maybe having thirteen overprotective brothers wasn’t so bad after all.
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sweetshuga · 6 months ago
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Roommates 7 ✧ CS [Finale]
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───~𓆩♡𓆪~───
roomie!chris! Finding the truth about your roommate—his dirty little secrets.
Everything went back to normal after your confrontation. You decided to forget about it all and go on about your day without thinking about the weird feelings you had developed.
Even so, you couldn’t ignore the way he would look at you sometimes – like he was checking you out – which the rational part of your brain kept telling you it was just your imagination and that you were delusional.
All the ground rules swirled in your mind like a broken record.
You can’t help but feel a small twinge of guilt when you remembered all the times you’ve broken the rules—without him knowing.
Rule number 1: Do not fall for each other.
You felt that spark you shouldn’t have felt.
Rule number 2: Do not invade each other’s privacy.
You eavesdropped his alone time.
Rule number 3: Do not touch each other’s belongings.
You took his camo tee.
Rule number 4: Don’t invite guests over after dark.
You let your friend come over despite it being late.
Rule number 5: Respect each other’s boundaries.
You went into his room while he was out.
Rule number 6: Do not lie to each other.
You lied through your teeth about not knowing where his camo tee was.
Rule number 7, the final rule: Clean up after yourself.
The final rule is the only one you haven’t broken yet, what to say, you were a bit of a clean freak after all. Chris, too, always kept his room tidy and cleaned after himself around the dorm.
𓆩♡𓆪
One evening, as you lounged on the couch, you felt a sudden feeling in your gut. You tried to shrug it off, thinking it was just a light stomach ache, but the feeling didn’t go away, only worsened.
Annoyed, you stood up—determined to get rid of the feeling. And as you walked, you couldn’t help but peek into Chris’ room; he had gone out.
Your stomach churned with nerves as you slowly let yourself in his room, yet again. You had broken the rule already, it wouldn’t hurt to break it again, right?
Your gaze landed on his bedside drawer, curiosity sparked within you as you took subconscious steps towards it. You wanted to know if that thong was still inside the drawer you previously found it in, and there it was, the same peach coloured frilly lacy thong.
You let out a small gasp as you checked the size and brand—it was without a doubt yours. You stared at the scrunched up fabric in your hands, questions flooded your head, the loudest one being, "why?" You echoed your thoughts out loud.
Looking around his room, you stood up, the thong clutched in your hands as you hesitantly opened his closet—only to find various polaroids of you and a few more of your lingerie.
The sight was almost too much to handle and you closed his closet, leaning against it, you murmured quietly, "what the fuck..." Confusion etched on your features.
You took a deep breath and turned around, facing the closet door once again and opened it. Crouching down as you inspected the polaroids. They were of you sleeping, looking away, cooking– he had taken them when you weren’t looking or paying attention.
"Jesus..." You breathed out, "what is all this?" Your hands reached for the lingerie. Pink lacy thongs, blue frilly ones, black g-strings—every one of them yours.
𓆩♡𓆪
Closing his bedroom door, you headed straight into your room. You plopped on your bed – looking up at the ceiling – with a drop in your gut. You only now knew who you were living under a roof with. A sick fucker, disguised by his good looks and innocent behaviour.
Despite your thoughts and the fright you felt, there was a small smile on your face—as if you were relishing in the newfound attention.
You weren’t as scared as you should’ve been, instead, his obsession with you seemed to make your heart race, in a sick, twisted way.
𓆩♡𓆪
When Chris arrived back to the dorm, he noticed that his room door was slightly ajar, and as he entered it, his heart dropped to the floor.
The things he so desperately wanted to hide – his dirty little secrets – were scattered all across his bed and floor. Lingerie and Polaroids adorning his once tidy room.
His heart raced with fear and excitement as he looked back at your bedroom door, closed but with a note stuck on it.
"I know."
𓆩♡𓆪
Rule number 7: Clean up after yourself.
You had left it messy, on purpose.
𓆩♡𓆪
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rule. 1 2 3 4 5 6 Origin
wc. 754
note. English is not my first language—if you didn't catch on with my poor vocabulary and writing skills.
Isa's notes. This is the last part of the blurb series! But spoiler? I'm writing the full length fanfic to the series! Dunno when I'll finish it, let's just say I got a writers block kinda situation going on right now, sucks ass but yeah... At least this one is the longest in the series. And as much as I want to continue this series, the rules are limited sooo... Here we are, saying goodbye to roomie!chris, for now ♡
Also, the fact that the blurb series started off with a cute little fluff kinda thing to this? Plot twist hoes 😋
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Taglist: @certified-sturniolo @sturnioloszn @ashlishes @slut4brunettes @wpcne8sr @ribread03 @poolover123 @h3arts4nat @freakbob15
xoxo 𓆩♡𓆪
© sweetshuga
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woso-story · 11 days ago
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Better Boyfriend Than Him - Part Twenty-One
Alexia Putellas x Reader - Other Parts
The apartment feels different when you come back from the weekend with Alexia’s family. It's not bad—just quieter. You drop your bag in the hallway, shrug out of your coat, and glance over at Alexia, who gives you a tired smile as she heads toward her room.
“I'm going to rest for a bit,” she mumbles.
You nod, even though she's already disappeared.
The weekend had been wonderful. Cozy, loud, filled with laughter and teasing and long dinners that stretched late into the night. Her family welcomed you like one of their own, and there were moments—so many little ones—where you looked at her and thought: This is it. This is where I want to be.
But now, back in your shared apartment, everything feels just a little… off.
You try to sleep that night, but it’s useless.
You toss and turn under the covers, eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling. The last two nights, you’d slept next to Alexia. Her body close to yours, the gentle rise and fall of her breathing soothing you to sleep. You hadn’t realized how much that mattered until now—until the absence of her beside you made the bed feel too big, too cold, too empty.
You think about getting up, about knocking on her door, but she has training in the morning. You don’t want to wake her, don’t want to seem needy.
But after another half hour of tossing around and sighing into your pillow, you can’t take it anymore.
You slide out of bed and tiptoe across the hall to her room. Your hand hovers in front of the door for a second, ready to knock—but you don’t. Instead, you slowly twist the knob and open the door as silently as you can.
It's dark inside. You can't really see where you're going, and you’re not even sure what you’re doing. Are you seriously just going to lie next to her? That feels weird… right?
You take one cautious step inside, then another—until you trip over something on the floor, probably her gym bag, and stumble, nearly falling flat on your face.
The noise jolts her awake.
“¿Qué pasa?” Alexia mumbles, her voice thick with sleep.
She clicks on the lamp and blinks at you, eyebrows drawing together in confusion as she sees you standing awkwardly in the middle of her room.
“I—I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you,” you say quickly, already backing toward the door. “I couldn’t sleep. Just—go back to bed, sorry.”
“Wait,” she says softly, sitting up a little straighter. “What’s wrong?”
You look at her for a moment, cheeks burning. “I just… I couldn’t sleep. I thought maybe… I could sleep in here. With you. But you have training tomorrow, and I didn’t want to be a burden or wake you up…”
A small smile pulls at her lips—sleepy and warm.
She pats the space beside her. “Come here.”
You hesitate just a second before walking over and sliding under the blanket she lifts for you. You leave a gap between you, unsure of the rules now that you’re not tangled up in a holiday weekend bubble.
Alexia gives you a look and raises an eyebrow. “Do I smell? Or why are you all the way over there?”
You laugh, relief washing over you, and scoot closer, cuddling into her side. She switches the lamp off and wraps her arm around you, pulling you even closer. Then she presses a soft kiss to the top of your head.
“Buenas noches,” she whispers.
“Buenas noches,” you mumble into her shoulder, already feeling sleep settle over you.
And just like that, you're out. Peaceful. Safe.
You wish it could be like that more often.
But something different happens instead.
In the days that follow, you start to feel like Alexia is drifting away from you.
At first, you tell yourself it’s just the busy schedule. It’s early December, after all. Champions League, Copa de la Reina, league games, media duties—there’s so much going on. But slowly, you start to feel like it’s not just that.
She doesn’t call anymore when she’s away. When she’s home, she’s busy with other things, or she comes back late and heads straight to her room. She still talks to you, still smiles, but there’s a weight behind her eyes now, like she’s far away even when she’s right in front of you.
And you miss her.
You miss how things were—how easy it felt. How close. And now, you don’t understand what’s changed.
What you don’t know is that Alexia doesn’t see it. She’s been so in her head, thinking about you—about what you mean to her. Thinking about whether she should ask you to be her girlfriend. Whether you’d even want that. She doesn’t notice how her overthinking has turned into distance.
She talks to her sister one afternoon after training, telling her everything.
Alba just looks at her and says, “Just ask her. You already know she wants to be with you.”
One evening, Alexia comes home after a long, grueling training session. She kicks off her shoes and shrugs out of her coat, exhausted. The apartment is quiet. Then she sees you on the couch—wrapped in a blanket, staring into space.
She sits beside you.
“Todo bien?” she asks.
You glance at her and nod. “Yeah.”
But you’re not fine. You’re so deep in your head, wondering what you did wrong. Wondering if she’s regretting letting you get too close.
Alexia doesn’t push. But then she sees it—a tear sliding down your cheek, and you quickly wipe it away with the back of your hand.
“Hey,” she says gently. “What’s going on?”
You hesitate, then quietly answer, “Nothing.”
She gives you a look. “I don’t believe you.”
You’re quiet for a long time. Then you finally ask, your voice barely above a whisper, “Did I do something wrong?”
Alexia blinks. “What? No—what do you mean?”
You turn to her now, really looking at her. “The last two weeks, it feels like you’re pulling away. Like… like everything was so good, and now it’s not. And I don’t know what I did to make that happen.”
She looks at you, stunned. She hadn’t realized. Not really.
Her voice is soft. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
She takes your hands in hers.
“I’ve just been… thinking so much. I didn’t notice that I was making you feel like something was wrong. And I’m sorry. Because nothing is wrong. At all.”
You look at her, searching her eyes. “Really?”
She nods. “Really.”
She smiles, small and sincere. “And tomorrow, I have a day off. I want it to be just us.”
---
The next day, you have breakfast together at home. For the first time in two weeks, things feel normal again. Comfortable.
You spend the day wandering around Barcelona, bundled up in coats and scarves. You visit Christmas markets, share warm food, laugh at the ridiculous decorations. Alexia asks about your Christmas plans, and you tell her you’ll be going to Zaragoza with Mapi to spend the holidays with both your families.
She tells you she’ll be with hers, and she’s looking forward to a bit of peace.
Later, you’re walking along the beach promenade. The sea is calm, the breeze cool against your cheeks. From time to time, your hands brush. She’s quiet, her gaze fixed on the horizon.
That look again. Like she’s somewhere else.
You stop and brush your fingers against hers to get her attention. “Hey,” you say softly. “Is everything okay between us?”
She blinks, surprised. “What do you mean?”
You sit on a nearby bench and look up at her. “I just… I still feel like something’s changed. And I know things are busy, but it feels like it’s more than that.”
Alexia sits beside you. Her fingers find yours again.
She hesitates, then finally speaks.
“I’ve been in my head a lot. Because… I’ve been thinking about how happy you make me. How you brighten my whole day just by being around. How, in the middle of all the chaos, you feel like the calm.”
You hold your breath.
“I didn’t mean to pull away. I was just scared. Of messing it up. Of asking too soon. But the truth is… I’ve fallen for you. And I know you already know that, but I want to say it out loud. I want you to hear it. And I want to ask you—” she smiles, eyes soft and shining— “if you’d be my girlfriend.”
You stare at her, heart pounding, tears forming again—but this time for a different reason.
All this time… all the distance… it wasn’t rejection. It was love.
You wrap your arms around her neck and pull her into a hug.
When you finally pull back, you grin and say, “Of course I want to. You idiot.”
She laughs, and you kiss her. Again. And again.
You stay on that bench for a long time, wrapped in each other, kissing, smiling, breathing it all in.
Alexia Putellas is your girlfriend now.
And somehow, that still doesn’t feel real.
But it is.
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bokutoko · 21 days ago
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waaaaah abs for the flower pop-up can I get a large bouquet with roses and tulips with sweet pea for Bokuto <333 this is so freakin cute omg
winter wonderland
k. bokuto x f!reader
wc: 962
cw: uni!au, frat president!bokuto, night confessions, studying for exams, brother’s best friend (kuroo is reader’s brother), minimal cursing, suggestive 18+ - making out, groping (consensual, f!receiving), grinding
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“break time!”
with a smile, bokuto walked to the box of ornaments laid by the half-decorated christmas tree and grabbed one. you only sighed, rubbing your eyes and asked, “ten minute timer starting now.”
the frat house was decked out with christmas paraphernalia: wreaths on every window and door, lights outlining the front porch, a 10-ft inflatable frosty the snowman swaying in the front yard. as snow slowly began to fall, it was a cozy environment. too bad you were too stressed about finals to really care.
luckily, bokuto came to the rescue and offered to body double with you and reinforce some breaks from studying. “don’t want you getting burned out!” he reassured you and kuroo with a big smile. you didn’t miss his subtle rosy cheeks as you two sat at the main room’s table, using the system of working for half an hour with ten-minute breaks.
it was perfect for productivity.
the only caveat? you were hopelessly crushing on your brother’s best friend and dreaded these breaks. you could feel your face heat up just from being close to him; when his hand brushed yours, it felt like butterflies erupting in your stomach as goosebumps trailed down your arm.
you grabbed an ornament of the frat’s greek symbols, poking fun at him with, “can i hang this one, or is there some weird tradition with it?”
he only smiled, looking down to grab his own. “there is a tradition, but you can hang it. usually goes here.” pointing to a spot on the tree, you happily hung it on a branch.
only, you didn’t realize the tradition was that the president was the one to hang it. it was a silly one, but it’d been done for the last twenty years, at the very least.
he chose to not tell you that, though, not when you looked so excited to do it.
“this look okay?”
“looks perfect.” his voice was soft—quieter than you usually heard from him. frankly, he wasn’t even looking at the tree, his eyes much too focused on you, with your hands on your hips as you looked at you two’s handiwork so far.
eventually, all that was left was the star, and thankfully, bokuto was tall enough to place it. watching him stand on a chair and straighten it, you observed how his biceps tensed and relaxed, watched the slight straining as he forced the star to sit straight on the tree… and you felt yourself grow a little lightheaded.
shouldn’t he be wearing a hoodie or something? wasn’t it snowing outside?? he needed to cover up.
pulling yourself out of those thoughts, you did one last once-over on the tree, making sure nothing looked too crowded or out of place. “looks nice.” bokuto stood next to you, nodding along, though he didn’t care quite as much about how the tree looked.
he really only cared if you liked it.
a sudden stuffiness fell over the room, and bokuto cleared his throat, commenting, “let me turn the fan on,” but immediately froze.
looking up, you then noticed why.
there, right above you both, was the dusty ceiling fan, and hanging on one of the chains was a little piece of mistletoe. obviously, one of the brothers tied it on, since neither of you noticed it until now.
bokuto let out an awkward laugh, mumbling something along the lines of, “i hate them.”
the tension grew between you two in a matter of seconds, looking into his eyes and seeing the little sparkle in his golden irises.
“are you okay with this?” bokuto softly asked as he approached you. a hand gently brushed some hair out of your face, searching your eyes for an answer—any answer. “tell me no, and i’ll stop.”
you didn’t tell him to stop. instead, you said, “it is an unspoken rule, honestly. we kinda, uh, have to.”
he nodded, his cheeks looking even pinker in the warm lighting of the lamps and christmas tree. “yeah—yeah, we have to…”
it was supposed to be a little peck. unfortunately, nobody told either of you that.
with you in his lap on the couch, his big hands gently grazed up your back, bringing some of your shirt up with them. with the slight feel of your skin against his, he deepened the kiss, letting it grow hungrier and hungrier.
his mind was slower than his body, only then suddenly thinking that he was kissing you.
YOU, his best friend’s sister!
but god, he couldn’t bring himself to pull away. not when your lips tasted of the hot chocolate he made for you earlier. not when your hands were in his hair and tugging at the roots. not when you subtly began to grind on him, right on his growing bulge—
his body began to heat up, despite the flakes falling outside. he had no idea what his hands were doing until they gently cupped your breasts, listening to the moans you sang in his mouth.
“kou—”
fuck, he was in deep. he could listen to your sounds all day.
“oh, baby—” he moaned in your mouth, his hands moving to your hips to gently guide your movements in his lap. oh god, the pressure feels amazing. “yeah, just like—”
DING, DING, DING!
the ten minute timer was going off, buzzing and ringing on the table with all your unfinished studying.
“kou, turn that shit off—“ you gasped out of frustration, dropping your head into his shoulder. he carefully scrambled to grab your phone and silence it, hoping to resume what you’d both started. to which you were more than happy to do so.
he’d really always known this, but bokuto very quickly learned just how weak of a man he was for you.
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a/n: hi narn it’s hot as balls outside for me rn (88°) but merry christmas
want to see more by me in this event? here's my masterlist! 🌷
main masterlist
please do not copy, alter, or repost my work. ©bokutoko 2025.
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steddiealltheway · 2 years ago
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Steve lays in his bed with thoughts of Eddie in the boathouse. For some reason, he wants to go to him. Hell, he knows he probably can't sleep, and they need him as well rested as they can so he can stay on alert through this whole hunt the freak thing.
Plus, a small part of him knows what it's like to be stuck with your thoughts late at night after dealing with the Upside Down shit. And it's not pleasant. Especially alone.
Another part of him knows that Dustin would never be okay if something happened to Eddie after they told him things would be fine.
But things will be fine. Especially if Steve goes to the boathouse and keeps watch for part of the night.
He throws on some more layers and grabs a protein bar for Eddie before driving that way, trying not to get too weirded out by the concept of him hanging out with Eddie "The Freak" Munson.
Hopefully this time he won't be threatened with that damn broken bottle.
He pulls up a little ways away from Reefer Rick's place and parks before grabbing his nail bat and creeping his way to the shed. He rounds the side toward the door and knocks lightly, whisper yelling, "Eddie! It's Steve! Open up!"
He waits a few moments before sighing and raising his voice. "I'm opening the door. Just don't kill me."
He slowly opens the door, glancing around the boathouse and finding it empty. He glances at the tarp over the boat and sighs, "Eddie, I know you're under there. It's just me."
The tarp shifts slightly, and Steve stares up at the ceiling in annoyance. "Okay, I get it. You don't trust me, and you have no reason to really. But we both know Dustin would kill me if I ever attempted to hurt you or turn you in. Plus, I know you're innocent, so I'm just going to stay here until you come out." He pauses before adding on, "I'll even hum so you know where I am."
He starts humming the first song that comes to mind which ends up being "Everybody Wants to Rule the World."
The tarp shifts and Steve watches as Eddie slowly reveals himself, bottle in hand, pointed at Steve. His eyes flicker to the bat in Steve's hand.
Steve stops humming. "It's for your safety," he says, lifting it up a little.
Eddie raises his eyebrows, and Steve gets the message before he drops the bat and raises his hands in surrender.
Eddie nods at him. "What's in your hand?"
Steve glances up and tosses the protein bar at Eddie. "Food," he says as Eddie curses, failing to catch the bar.
Steve takes a step closer but Eddie holds out the bottle to him and stands up. "Why are you here?"
"To make sure you're safe."
He looks unconvinced.
Steve shrugs and crosses his arms. "Okay, I know what it's like trying to process all this shit on your own, and it sucks, man. I didn't have anyone with me the first night after everything went down, and I didn't think I would make it through the night without that thing coming back."
"So what? You're here to help the freak with no ulterior motive, and I'm supposed to believe that?"
"You can tell me to leave, but I don't really want to spend the night alone either," Steve confesses, hoping that it will help Eddie trust him a bit.
Eddie only stares at him for a few moments before leaning out of the boat to pick up the bat before sitting down and picking up the protein bar. He unwraps it and bites off half of it before asking, "Tears for Fears, really?"
It takes a second for Steve to really understand what Eddie's asking before he smiles slightly. "That's what you're worried about?"
Eddie shrugs, taking around his mouthful, "I was just wondering if you really thought that's the type of music I'm into."
"It's the first song that came to mind. But no. I know you're into that metal stuff that Mike's been going on about." Steve takes a tentative step forward, watching the way Eddie's eyes follow the step.
He raises his eyebrows when Eddie glances up at him and shifts a bit before gesturing to the spot in front of him. Steve takes the invitation and sits in front of him, shifting a bit around the boat before grimacing.
"I bet you're missing your bed," Eddie comments as he finishes off the bar, dropping the wrapper in the boat before grabbing his broken bottle again. Luckily this time, he doesn't point it in Steve's direction.
"A bit," Steve confesses as he fails to get comfortable. He wishes he could take Eddie back to his home and maybe even give him the guest bedroom so he doesn't have to stay here.
Wait.
Steve glances up to where Eddie is tightly gripping the handle of his bat and the neck of the broken bottle and slowly reaches out his hand, asking for the bat. As Eddie hands it over reluctantly, Steve says, "Why don't you stay at my house for now? No one would guess you would be there."
Eddie snorts and shakes his head. "I'm not risking you getting caught with me."
"Well, it's too late for that." Steve says before circling back a bit to ask, "Why?"
Eddie shrugs and glances down at the bottle. "Because Dustin would kill me."
Steve sighs and lays the bat on the side of the boat. "You can hide in the back of my car on the drive there. It'll be easy to sneak you in."
"And your parents?"
"Gone for the foreseeable future. And even if they do come back, I can hide you in my closet or something."
Eddie shoots him a look. "Comfortable."
"Do you have a better idea?"
Eddie glances around the boathouse. "I don't mind staying here at the moment."
Steve's not sure why he wants to fight him on it so bad, but he gives in and says, "Just consider it after we've killed Vecna and we're going through the whole clearing your name process, okay?"
"Why?"
The question takes Steve off guard, but he easily deflects saying, "Because Dustin would kill me."
Eddie nods and looks off, getting that same far-off haunted look on his face. Before Steve can attempt to distract him Eddie snaps out of it asking, "And if someone comes here now, how will you explain why you're here?"
Steve glances around and looks at the windows and door. "Okay, maybe we should get under the tarp before that happens."
Eddie stares at him. "You want to get cozy with me in this boat?"
"I want to save both of our asses for now. If we hear something, we stay hidden, and if they come inside, we grab the bat and bottle and we attack." Get cozy with him?
Eddie sighs, "Can't wait," before shifting to sit next to Steve, placing his bottle carefully down toward the end of the boat before grabbing the tarp.
Steve shifts the bat, nails side at the end of the boat and shifts to lay back.
Eddie glances down at him and asks, "Ready?"
Steve nods as Eddie pulls the tarp over them and lays back. In the process, he ends up jostling Steve and shifting him to the side, almost getting his leg stabbed by the bat as Eddie curses about the bottle. They both shift to face each other, quickly noticing that they're around the same height with the way their feet are knocking into each other their breath is mingling together.
It is very weirdly intimate.
"Steve?" Eddie asks.
Steve hums in response.
"Maybe we should pull the tarp back until we hear something."
"Great plan," Steve says quickly, reaching up to pull the tarp back a bit.
There's a bit of moonlight shining through the windows which illuminates Eddie's face enough for Steve to be able to admire him. Steve blames the intimate position for his thoughts about how Eddie "The Freak" Munson is kind of beautiful.
Eddie's eyebrows furrow. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
Steve quickly looks away and lies, "Just thinking."
"About?"
Steve takes a moment and readjusts a bit. "Just never thought I would be hanging out with you."
Eddie shifts as well, accidentally brushing his hand against where Steve's own hand lies between them. Eddie's hand shoots back to his chest. "if it makes you feel better, I wouldn't call this hanging out. We're just two people who are linked through some supernatural shit with parallel worlds and are trying to keep each other alive so Dustin doesn't kill us." He lets out a slow deep breath through his nose and glances away. "It doesn't have to mean anything. Trust me, I know you wouldn't be here unless you had to be."
Steve lets the feeling of regret run through him. "That's not what I meant."
"No?" Eddie challenges him.
"No," Steve confesses. "Dustin didn't ask me to come here, you know."
"So, you're doing this out of the goodness of your heart?" Eddie asks, tone dripping with disbelief.
"I didn't want you to be alone."
"Yeah, you said that before."
Steve's eyebrows furrow. "And?"
"And I'm sorry if I have trouble believing it."
Steve just blinks at him, unsure what to say other than his usual apology for being an asshole in high school.
Eddie beats him to it and sighs, "You're just... Steve Harrington. And I'm 'The Freak.'"
Steve can't help but snarkily reply, "I didn't realize that was your legal name."
Eddie narrows his eyes at him. "You know what I mean."
As much as he hates it, Steve does understand what he means. He looks him in the eye and says, "You know if I could go back and change how I was in high school, I would. Because, trust me, being 'King Steve' was not all that it was chalked up to be. And everyone I love still sees me that way. It's like they're waiting for that guy to come back or something because they're always in disbelief that I've changed or whatever. It's all just... bullshit." He sighs out the word, trying not to think too hard about understanding what Nancy meant when she called him it.
Eddie continues to stare at him, eyes wandering over his face as if he's trying to make his own assessment of him. Or as if he's waiting for the real Steve to pop out, the inevitable asshole. Instead, he just says, "You're different than I imagined."
"Is that a good thing?" Steve can't help but ask.
"Give me a business day or two, and I'll get back to you about it," Eddie says with a smile.
The response startles a laugh out of Steve which he quickly covers with his hand before he rests it in the space between them. "Maybe you're different, too."
"Yeah?" Eddie asks.
"I thought you'd be way less willing to accept my presence here."
Eddie shrugs the shoulder he isn't laying on. "Well, being alone seemed to be slightly more appalling than spending time with you." He smiles and nudges him with his foot. "I'm joking. At least, now I'm joking."
Steve rolls his eyes and nudges Eddie with a little too much force, sending them both off balance and causing Steve to end up a bit sprawled out on top of Eddie who stares up at him with wide eyes.
For some reason, the new angle really does something for Steve who can only think of kissing Eddie. He leans back and takes a deep breath before an idea strikes him. He blames his tired, anxiety-ridden mind on the reason for voicing his thought, "You know, I can think of a better way to explain why I'm here if someone comes in."
"Yeah?" Eddie asks, face carefully blank but a heavy swallow gives him away.
Steve shrugs. "Who is to question King Steve hooking up with some random girl in Reefer Rick's empty boathouse?"
"Christ," Eddie mumbles out, eyes flicking down to Steve's lips. "Are you suggesting we...?"
Steve looks down at him innocently. "I mean, if it comes down to it, I would be down to kiss you. Your hair is long enough to hide your face," he turns to the door and windows, "And from this angle, they would barely catch a glimpse of you."
Eddie swallows again and breathes out, "You're definitely not what I thought you'd be like."
"And is that-"
"A good thing?" Eddie finishes for him. "Yeah, I would say it is definitely a good thing."
Steve smiles down at him and is about to shift off of him when there's a sudden noise outside of the boathouse. He feels Eddie freeze beneath him.
"Steve... I know it was probably a joke, but either cover us with the tarp or kiss me," Eddie whispers quickly.
Steve reaches out for the tarp and pulls it over their heads, noticing the slight look of disappointment on Eddie's face before the tarp blocks out the light. His hands reach out, landing on Eddie's chest before trailing up to cup his jaw.
"What are you doing?" Eddie whispers. Steve can feel his heart thudding in his chest impossibly faster at the sensation.
"Why not do both?" Steve whispers into the air between them.
He waits as Eddie's own hands come up to his shoulders, tracing their way into Steve's hair. "Both. Yeah. Both are good."
Steve's not sure who moves first, but their kiss is frenzied, filled with the anxiety of Hawkins crumbling around them along with the possibility of Eddie being caught, mixed with the fact that they're "The Hair" and "The Freak." And this is not supposed to be happening.
But Steve doesn't care. He deepens the kiss, groaning when Eddie tugs at his hair and pulls him closer. God, Steve can practically feel the kiss go through his full body, and he can't remember the last time a kiss made him feel like this.
The air around them under the tarp gets warmer as the kiss goes on, and Steve finds himself breaking away for air only to chase Eddie's lips again. It's all intoxicating. And the warm air makes it feel like he isn't getting enough air as Eddie practically sucks it out of him.
He breaks away and gasps, "God, I want to lift the tarp, but I can't risk anyone seeing you."
Eddie doesn't answer, he just pulls the tarp slightly off them before pulling Steve into another kiss. Steve can barely register the relief of the cool air hitting the back of his damp neck as he gets lost in Eddie.
"Can't see me remember?" Eddie says against Steve's lips.
"They can- mmm. See the rings," Steve manages to get out.
Eddie's hands slowly drift down Steve's back, resting on the dip of his spine that's still under the tarp. "Better?"
Steve pulls back and looks down at Eddie, his mouth pink and damp, cheeks flushed red, pupils blown wide. "God, you're beautiful," Steve says without thinking.
Eddie stares at him for a moment, face carefully blank before he glances at the window. "Do you think they're still here?"
Steve glances out the window and debates what to say next. He settles with the truth. "I'm pretty sure it was just a branch that hit the window."
Eddie nods and worries his bottom lip, not looking at Steve. He's still struggling to catch his breath, but Steve can't say much when he is equally as winded.
Steve pauses and says, "But maybe someone's out there. Or..." He shakes his head, trying not to finish the thought out loud.
"Or what?" Eddie asks.
"Or maybe I just want to kiss you again," Steve confesses.
Eddie looks up at him and pauses, eyes searching Steve's face for something. He glances toward the window and says, "I can't exactly be on high alert if you kiss me again, but..." he glances at Steve and finishes his thought, "I think it's worth the risk."
"If you really think about it, it's more risky if I stop kissing you."
Eddie tilts his head in confusion. "And why's that?"
"Because I'll only be able to think about kissing you again and won't be on high alert," Steve flirts easily. "And really, it's a great cover."
Eddie smiles and even momentarily laughs. "You're so full of shit," he says, but pulls Steve down to him, kissing him again with the same frenzied energy.
Only, Steve pulls away and winks at him. "We've got all night. We can take it slow."
"I think you're going to kill me."
Steve brushes a strand of hair out of his face. "And is that-"
"A good thing?" Eddie finishes for him again. "Yes," he answers, kissing Steve again but slowly, taking his time with him.
It's fair to say that Steve's original plan of keeping watch and letting Eddie sleep goes out the window, but he's pretty sure it's worth it.
It's definitely worth it.
2K notes · View notes
mspopstar · 4 months ago
Note
What would happen if you were to lock Meta Knight, Dedede, Magolor and Marx all in the same room?
Content warning: Graphic Content.
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DDD: "Wha- What the?! What is this place? Meta Knight?! Meta Knight where are we?"
MK: "Sire, I've not a clue. We're in some...cage"
M: "Cage? Cages has bars, this is more of a cube!"
MK: "This is no reason to be pedantic, we are trapped and that is the issue at hand."
M: "Hm...."
THIRTY MINUTES LATER.
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DDD: "Meta Knight, do you see anythin' up there"
MK: "Sire, there is not even a seam of which the ceiling meets the wall. It... The material... It is not concrete, it is not wood, it is not even metal. It neither scratches or warps like plastic too. It feels like glass, but it isn't transparent otherwise... Well, we would see something, no?"
M: "Well... There's the possibility that it is transparent and the white we're seeing is what's outside of this cube... Like we're all trapped in a glass cube in a white void in... somewhere."
MK: "Quiet you. If that were the case, there'd be a reflection wouldn't there?"
M: "Mm... Well, not always! After all, you don't get a reflection from plastic, right? We could be in a plastic cube!"
MK: "Did you not hear me, if it were plastic then I'd already free us! It doesn't scratch, it does not warp."
M: "Maybe it's translucent rather than transparent. Hm? There's clearly a light source coming from something."
DDD "No bickering you two. Crap. I don't even feel some form of air comin' through either. This room has no circulation of any kind... As ya' said. no seams so the walls and floor are all one solid material. No way this is hand-made then if there's a interior... Not to mention... It's solid, no sense of hollowness on the other side of these walls. Magic maybe? Well, if it were magic I'd have a sense of it."
M: "Heh. Well, I'm gonna take a nap. Wake me one one you two have figured out anything."
FOUR HOURS LATER.
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M: "Bets?"
DDD: "On what?"
MK: "....What?"
M: "Bets on how long it takes for Kirby to come save us."
DDD: "Optimistically... Three days?"
MK: "That is if Kirby has a idea of where we are..."
DDD: "You bring up a good point chrome dome. Usually when we go missing there's a huge event. I just remember taking a nap an' then I'm in this crazy place."
MK: "In my circumstances, I had just finished looking through some electronic order forms from a merchant on Planet Mecheye whom my operations does business with and for. I wanted to re-check the product code for a new set of energy valves meant for a future upgrade. So I decided to leave the communications room to and head to Captain Vul's office so that we coul-.
M: "Gahaha! Geez! Who cares about that? Cut to the point."
MK: "..."
DDD: "I'll have to agree with my jester over 'ere Meta Knight. We might have all time in the world but we don't need a play-by-play of your day."
MK: "Right, sire. Well, I did not wish to wait for the lift so I decided to teleport... Then, well, I am here."
M: "For me, I just blinked."
DDD: "What?"
M: "Yes. It was very weird. I got something in my eye, blinked a couple of times and when I re-opened my eyes on the... third blink I opened my eyes to this white room."
MK: "Hm... That rules out a few theories I have."
DDD: "Does it now?"
MK: "Aye. Clearly, our imprisonment is not of the result of magic, a physical kidnapper, or, in my case, a faulty re-route of my teleportation. It... It is the result of something or someone beyond that. There's no correlation between us and how we arrived here. It is anomalous and random."
M: "Ahah... We're totally in it now."
MK: "Why are you chuckling, tell me, is this but a game for you? What is it in this case?"
M: "Relax. Meta Knight, was it? You can't teleport out of here with that cape of yours. Dedede couldn't break a dent in the walls with his hammer and your sword couldn't scratch. It in this case is the worst possible scenario."
DDD: "Don't say that."
MK: "Yes. We needn't the excessive negativity."
M: "Hmph. If that is how you wish to be, who am I to stop you."
DDD: "For now, let's just rest. Sleep a little. Clear our heads and come up with a plan."
24 HOURS LATER.
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MK: "We do have some provisions. Three MREs, a chocolate bar, two lolipops, an Invincibility Candy, and finally a full canteen of water."
DDD: "Is this really all we have?"
M: "Gosh! You're right. If I had known we'd be trapped in a cosmic prison. I'd bring some snacks!"
MK: "We do have a single Invincibility Candy, I suppose we can take advantage of its properties."
M: "How?"
DDD: "You never had one, have you?"
M: "No, I can't say I have."
MK: "It is simple. The Invincibility Candy replenishes all. One bite, and you're instantly satiated, all wounds heal, and so on. I suppose I can break it down into as many small chunks as possible and we can ration it out once the normal provisions run out."
M: "Ahaha, I see now!"
MK: "For our normal provisions... I suppose it is best we conserve what we can, using only the absolute minimum. However... Well, I suppose I do not need to eat or drink..."
M: "...Oh? And why is that?"
MK: "Being what I am... Whatever that may be. I do not need to consume food or drink. After all, my species is long lived, hardy, and nigh immortal. Consumables are not exactly necessary."
M: "Hm. ...Well, I suppose more for..."
M: "..."
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M: "Well, I suppose that's more for me and his highness then, right? Thank you, Meta Knight!"
DDD: "Hold on jus' a second. I don't want you to starve Meta."
MK: "It is of no concern to you. I will be fine. I would rather fast if it means keeping those who can't alive."
DDD: "If you say so..."
MK: "With our food situation squared away... Well, I suppose we can sleep?"
THREE DAYS LATER
DDD: "Wait a second..."
M: "...?"
MK: "What is it...?"
DDD: "I... I don't think help is coming."
MK: "..."
DDD: "Meta Knight, there is somethin' very strange and very wrong about this prison place here."
MK: "Calm yourself. What is the issue?"
DDD: "You can't teleport out of here, and that is a dimensional cape, right?"
MK: "No, unfortunately, I cannot."
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DDD: "Is there anything, anything at all that could stop you from using it to teleport? Maybe that can be a clue to where we are You can already pull stuff from it, so it's not completely broken, right?"
MK: "Yes, and no. The problem is, my Dimensional Cape works as more of a hammer-space, similar to Kirby's mouth. Teleporting is, for lack of a better explanation, opening a door within that hammer space to traverse to a different location that is contingent on dimensions. No matter what I've tried, I couldn't open that door so to speak. So, the only thing that would stop me from accessing it's properties for teleporting... would be... if there wasn't a dimension to tap into in the first place."
DDD: "Crap. If that's the case.... You can't use your cape so... So we're stuck not just physically, but outside of physics itself?"
MK: "Er...Yes?"
M: "I don't understand what that means. What exactly is the problem?"
DDD: "If what I'm theorizing is correct, we are outside the existence of our 'dimensions' itself. In other words, it is like we're outside of existing within a physical or chronological instance... Whatever this place is... It's in a sort of null-dimension outside of what could be considered a "physical" dimension of sorts."
MK: "..."
M: "...Huh. Is it even possible to... Traverse that? Magolor could come find us, right? He's a dimensional traveller."
DDD: "I don't know... I don't know if Magolor could even make it... Can you even traverse a dimension that isn't even... How should I say, how d'you go to a place that was never present from your own perspective?"
MK: "..."
M: "..."
TEN DAYS LATER
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*Clang*
*Clang*
*Clang*
M: "Will you give it a rest? You've been at that wall for hours. That sword of yours isn't gonna break it. You haven't even left a scratch!"
MK: "I have... *huff*... I have to try something. We can't just be... Stuck."
M: "Hah... Do you know of the definition of insanity?"
MK "..."
DDD: "..."
M: "So, what now?"
MK: "We continue waiting...."
M: "Right, but what then. Do we continue waiting and waiting? Heh. Is that it? We do nothing and wait for the inveitabl-"
MK: "Silence. Do not even speak such thoughts."
M: "Right, right. Of course, you would say that. Right, Sir Meta Knight?"
MK: "Kh-?! What are you implying, anyways you devil?"
M: "You're going to outlive us both, aren't you? You already know that."
MK: "...That... That is true. What are you trying to get at? Why are you saying this."
M: "What then, Meta Knight? What then after that? Are you prepared for that?"
MK: "...So be it. If... If that will be my fate I have... methods to..."
M: "Take care of yourself, perhaps?"
MK: "..."
TWO WEEKS LATER
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M: "We're out of food. All of the water is gone. ...We have only two small pieces left of Invincibility Candy."
MK "...I see. Aye. Go ahead, take one and pass the other to his highness."
DDD: "Wait, are we really out of..."
MK: "Yes, Sire. I'm sorry."
M: "Tch. Two weeks. Not a single change. NOTHING, NOTHING, NOTHING!"
DDD: "..."
MK: "SILENCE! Do you think I do not know? We've been in the same forsaken box for two weeks! Do you think I already don't know we're TRAPPED?!"
M: "Without food or water... Well, Dedede here is now biding time, huh?"
MK: "Bah! You are in just as much danger, no?"
M: "...Oh, right... Yes, you're right."
MK: "That hesitation, what for? Hm?"
M: "...Hmph, it doesn't matter now. Okay? I lied."
DDD: "What...."
MK: "So you did know a way out? Another one of your sick pranks?"
M: "Kyahahah! No, no, no. Trust me, I do not care for being stuck here as much as you two do. I admit. A soul? Don't have one. Thank Kirby for that one. I lack a soul, ergo, I had no necessary need to eat or drink. Sorry about that, I really am. However, if I am to die here I refuse to die on a empty stomach."
MK: "You vile selfish beast!"
DDD: "...Meta Knight, calm down. .... It ain't...It's not worth it. Is it now? What's done is done. Haah... Let's just... Let's just sleep. You two are exhausting... I don't have the energy to deal with it."
M: "..."
MK: "...My apologies."
Three Weeks Later
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M: "I...I don't think Kirby's coming for us. Hah... Meta Knight? Why... Why am I scared?"
MK: "... I... Kirby will come for us."
M: "Wouldn't he have, already? Why hasn't he?! There's so much he could've done by now. He could've wished for our safe return through NOVA by now."
MK: "That's... Kirby... Stop. Kirby is going to come for us or we're going to figure out a way out..."
M: "Why hasn't he?!"
MK: "I do not know! I don't know why Kirby hasn't shown up..."
M: "..."
MK: "...? Sire, are you okay?"
DDD: "...Meta Knight. I'm scared. I want to go home. I don't want to die like this. Anythin' but this... "
MK: "I know. Eventually, we'll get out of here. For now... Go to sleep, Sire. Conserve your strength."
DDD: "...Alright."
M: "..."
MK "...I will. I will fix this. I will get us out of here. I have to, any means necessary."
M: "Pah, good luck with that..."
MK: "..."
SEVEN WEEKS AND THREE DAYS LATER
MK: "Sire, I'm sorry."
M: "Huh why do you...?"
DDD: "Mmngh?...Wha...What're yo-"
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*Ssslraash--!!!*
M: "W-WHY?!"
MK: "I had to. It's the only way to escape."
M: "Escape?! Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait!!!"
MK: "He was in pain. He could barely sit up. He was shivering. It was an act of mercy. A quick death is far more appealing than a long, drawn out one of anguish."
M: "Hahaha?! Have you lost your mind or something?!"
MK: "Perhaps. We aren't escaping from here. I realize that. There are times where you can only give up. That is okay. I have made peace with that."
M: "...Wait. I don't... Meta Knight?! Meta Knight! ...What are you doing?"
MK: "Worry not. I will make this quick."
M: "I... Hold on, wait. I don't... I don't... I don't want to-!"
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EIGHT WEEKS LATER
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MK: "....I'm sorry, I'm so sorry....Sire... Uuhg... I'm sorry... Sire... I can't do it... I can't do it.... I'm sorry... I'm sorry.....Kirby... Agh..."
ELEVEN WEEKS LATER
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MK: "....It is time. Deep breaths... Allign the blade....and..."
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MK: "Nn...!?!!!-"
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TWELVE WEEKS LATER
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TWENTY WEEKS LATER
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FOURTY WEEKS LATER
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THREE YEARS LATER
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"My, my, what an interesting scenario! I can't say I am too surprised of the outcome. Well, thank you again for using HWC's Virtual Problem and Scenario Observer, VPASO!"
-Executive Secretary Susana Haltmann
171 notes · View notes
strangelittlestories · 10 days ago
Text
The wizard sat in the cell. Their hands were bound in iron. Glyphs glowed on the ceiling, their light filled her with fizzing energy. She hadn't slept in some time.
Fine, they could take her books and her staff. They could deny her knowledge and rest. She had done her best work in the college insomniac and resource starved. She had remade herself with sacred alchemy and experimental thoughtcraft while running on nothing but tea and firefly-root. She could work this problem.
She went over her defense in her head one more time.
“Your honour, in my time bearing the staff I have done many things. I have plundered the heavens for their secrets. I have given monarchs prophecies I knew they would try to escape and, in doing so, wreck themselves. They deserved to get wrecked. But your honour-”
[If you want, we can start now.]
“Pardon me?”
The voice had come from all around her. It resonated through the walls, rattled her chains and her bones. It sang in her blood.
[My apologies for the interruption. You can go on if you like? But it seems you have your arguments well rehearsed already.]
“I have always been… thorough.”
[It is good to be thorough. You should give all your endeavours Due Process.]
The voice was all-encompassing, all-surrounding, a ‘words etched in granite’ sort of voice. But it also almost seemed kind. Or, if not kind, then *thoughtful*.
“Oh heck it, let's get this over with.” The wizard looked up, trying to look the voice in the face even though it had none. “Do we not need a jury or something?”
[No. It has been deemed that your words could be, well, corruptive. Sorry to be so blunt. I shall be your sole judgement. And your ‘soul’ judgement, come to that.]
The wizard was used to peering through the veil to see hidden truths. It was something of an effort to *listen* through the veil instead, but the principle was the same. What they heard was an echo of something gentle but unyielding, something soft but with the weight of mountains behind it.
“First, tell me which god you are.”
[You *are* quick on the uptake. They said you would be. I am Arbiter. I manage the discourse between what is and what is not. I oversee the conversation between consensus and individual. I listen to what agreements have been made and I judge when they have been broken.]
“Second, tell me what I am accused of.”
[You stand accused - or sit accused, I suppose - of breaking the laws of reality.]
“Any in particular?”
[Oh, tons. Gravity. Causality. Probability. Conservation of energy. One one weird one about things going wrong. You name it, you probably broke it.]
“And who wrote these laws? What court or nation drew them up?”
[No mortal court did this.]
“A divine one then?”
[No gods, either. Some of us gods made the planet you live on, some of us made you, but reality’s laws are fundamentally an aspect of Truth. And Truth is an altogether different entity. If it can be an entity at all.]
“Fascinating.” The wizard felt her mind run off in a dozen different directions at the implication of this. She wrenched it back on track. “So Truth is putting me on trial?”
[Philosophers are putting you on trial. They call themselves Absolutists. They hold that acts of magic that bend or break reality are damaging to the Inferred Axioms.]
“So … all magic, then?”
[I am afraid so.]
“If it runs counter to axiomatic truths, then why is magic even possible? Surely, if it can reliably act on the world, it is a fundamental force of reality like any other?”
[This is your defense?]
“This is curiosity.” The wizard clinked their chains in frustration. She wished she could draw upon the walls.
[It is not like other forces, however. Its rules change. Its conventions vary across lands and are inconsistent with each other. It is a trick of Perspective, which does not always get along with Truth, for Perspective plays sleight of hand with the universe. It makes things true just by getting you to look at things the right way for long enough.]
“Alright, here’s my defense.” The wizard let out a deep breath and focused on a spot on the wall and imagined that patch of stone to be the face of Arbiter. Thus, looking the god in the face, the wizard continued, “Screw you.”
[This defense is… unconventional.]
“Listen, buddy. Your honour. Your honoured buddy.” The wizard drew up her shoulders and prepared herself to really go off on one. “You seem like a nice god. But, ultimately, all gods are servants. That’s not a bad thing! Acts of service are beautiful. Sadly, the people you’re serving are assholes and, what’s worse, I think you know that. But you’re so wrapped up in the nobility and importance of your purpose that you don’t seem to care what side you actually end up on or who is standing beside you. And that means you’re not really a servant, you’re a *lackey*.
“It’d be easy to shrug that off and say, oh well, can’t really blame Arbiter, can I? Gods are just like that. But I *have* to believe it’s not that simple. I must believe that you can change and you can choose. And maybe that goes against some divine law or axiom, but baby, I guess I’m just prone to *magical thinking*.
“And it galls me. It does, it galls me, that of all the many things I’ve done… what actually gets me convicted may well be something I *am*. Because if magic is just a way of thinking things might be different, then getting reality itself to - even if just for a moment - see it your way? Then, honoured buddy, I am magic down to the last mote of me.
“The laws of reality? What does that even mean? They’re not laws, not really. They’re just things that *are*. I don’t give a single toot about things that just are. I have no time at all for things that are only ever one thing. I care about what *can* be. And you, my friend, *can* screw off.”
[Unfortunate. If you will not make a proper defense, the philosophers will keep you here indefinitely, so as to limit your impact on reality. They would kill you, but they are scared about ghosts.]
“Then I guess I’ll just have to try and outlive them. Heck, maybe I’ll outlive you too.”
[They are an entire people. And I am eternal.]
“So I guess it’s a longshot, huh?” The wizard spat a thick gob of saliva at the part of the wall where she imagined Arbiter’s face. “Well, I guess I’m pretty comfortable with a longshot.”
---
Enjoy my writing? Please consider supporting my latest creative endeavour, Poor Life Choices. Currently crowdfunding for a run at the Edinburgh Fringe! https://igg.me/at/poorlifechoices/x#/
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okkotsuus · 2 months ago
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"WE HUG NOW" ー taro sakamoto 🪽
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features: taro sakamoto (sakamoto days)
contents: assassin!reader, one-sided pining, angst, heartbreak, implied trauma, injuries, depictions of wounds, mentions of blood, very mild gore warning, kind of implied self-harm/self-destructive behavior, tailing, insecurity, songfic, 1.9k words.
notes: this actually came to me in a dream and then i had a batshit crazy one after, oh and i'm still reading the manga so no spoilers pls... blaming @17020 because mimi got me into sakadays and now i'm a little hooked.
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taro sakamoto was the world's legendary assassin, he was the best at everything there was: like some sort of god amongst men. everyone loved him, and if they didn't love him: they feared him.
no one was ever fully able to reach him, or even keep up with him. no one except nagumo, rion, and you.
if sakamoto was placed on a mission, even if it was solo, somehow you were always 'in the area.' whether it be okinawa or shibuya: you just happened to be there.
at first, taro thought nothing of it. you were his friend, and you always managed to make any hit run smoother with that sharp wit you were requested for. it was mutualism, scratch sakamoto's back and he'll scract yours.
eventually, it began to grow into something more.
neither of you noticed it; and if you did, you kept quiet about it.
little things began to happen, things like sakamoto keeping a change of clothes for you in his go-bag. or having your preferred mm of ammunition to go with your favorite gun.
the two of you existed in this weird sort-of in between space.
you weren't lovers; but you were certainly more than friends.
only you knew the code to get into his gun safe, and only he knew how to get past the security system outside your apartment.
assassins don't let people in.
it's an unspoken rule of the job.
one you broke.
it all happened one night, when you and taro were both scraped up from a rough mission to assassinate the head of the yamaguchi family.
wordlessly, you were both splayed over a motel bed, not even under the sheets as both of your eyes remained locked onto the swirling ceiling fan.
"why did you let that one grunt get a shot on you, y/n? you're better than that." his voice rumbled, tone non-commitant despite the obvious lacing of worry in his words.
sakamoto has always cared about those dear to him, maybe more than he should.
he always had let rion talk about anything that interested her, played along with nagumo's tricks. he was a good man, assassin or not.
so, when you don't answer, his head lolls to the side to see if you had even heard him in the first place. and brown eyes widen, just barely perceptibly at the hollow stare e/c irises give him.
"i always let myself get hurt on a hit. it's how i atone for the lives i take."
the words echo between the two of you, they make silver brows furrow and thin lips draw flat.
he doesn't speak, so you look away, head turning to make interest of the chipping paint on the smoke-stained walls.
a grazing of fingertips over the torn fabric of your jeans sends your body moving before you can even think. cheap lobby pen pressed against sakamoto's carotid as your weight pins his hips down to the shitty matress below.
taro doesn't even move, not trying to shove you away. he just lays there, limp boned and pliant.
lithe fingers find themselves in the skin on the side of your thigh with an audible squelch. it hurts, feeling him root around in your flesh: but any assassin could take a little pain. his intrusion into your wound is gone as he pulls a 9mm luger from you and tosses it haphazardly onto the carpet.
you don't know what to think, what to do. so you remain atop his form, ballpoint still just barely poking at the skin beneath his jaw. you can see the way his pulse makes the pen dig deeper before it falls once more.
and he's just letting you do all this.
not a single muscle in his body has made any move to resist you.
when he so easily could.
it has your brows raising back to normal, e/c eyes rounding in curiosity.
sakamoto wipes his bloodied fingers on his shirt before tearing the hem of it to wrap it around your thigh, tying it off in a messy knot.
your makeshift weapon fall from your fingers, "why are you doing this, taro?" he hums, fingers drumming against the shitty box spring you have him against.
"you shouldn't hurt yourself, it's not good." he drawls, eyes finally finding your own as he stared up at you in a way that sends your stomach twisting. "can't let the world think my partner's getting weak."
god, you know he doesn't mean it that way.
he means it because you two work together, because he lets you tag along on his missions.
but some selfish, foolish part of you eats it up: the definition you want it to have, that the two of you are really something more.
dumbly, you nod, sitting back and rolling off of him.
"okay, i won't." he's satisfied, turning onto his side with a grunt, broad back facing you.
within a few minutes, he's softly snoring, as if he hadn't just sent your carefully constructed world toppling asunder.
you don't sleep that night.
or many others, for that matter.
all you want is to think he meant that the way you thought he did, even though you know it is the furthest thing from the truth.
assassins don't fall in love.
it seems like you're a pretty shitty one, then.
nothing ever changes, a part of you so deeply repressed is too scared to be the one jumping into the unknown.
that awkward space you had always been in with sakamoto remains. too far to be just friends, but just too far from being lovers.
he makes it hard. unbearably so.
taro is a kind man: he remembers anything you tell him, he keeps his apartment stocked with your snacks, he doesn't let you leave on a mission without saying goodbye (once you forgot and he showed up on the roof of your car).
then, one day, he goes on a mission while you were stuck in a stealth operative on the northern coast. normally, he finishes a hit quick and comes by your apartment after with some shitty takeout and MREs: which he seems to prefer, for whatever unknowable reason.
but, this time, you have to find him.
he's not at his place, not at the JAA, not with nagumo.
you worry about him, for possibly the first time in the years you had known each other. sakamoto is japan's best, everyone had some sort of interest in having him gone. no one had succeeded; hell, no one had gotten close.
what if today they did?
the thought has an indescribable ache burning under your ribs.
it punch in his code and lock the door behind yourself, sat on his couch, and felt tears burn at your eyes for the first time in god knows how long.
he comes home at around 1:32am, doesn't even acknowledge your presence as he shrugs off his coat; even though you know he can see you. his hands are empty, except for a convenience store bag.
sakamoto doesn't eat anything other than MREs, unless it's the fancy dinner provided at order meetings. he certainly doesn't eat junk food and snacks.
"you hungry, taro?" the words come out more fragile than you intend, but he doesn't speak on it. the man shakes his head, holding up his bag as he comes to sit on the couch next to you, tearing into a wafer bar and crunching at it.
it's upsetting, how he won't even look at you, how he doesn't even dignify answering you with words.
"i thought you hated pre-packaged foods..," you mumble, brows furrowing. he pauses for the briefest moment, mid-bite. "the girl at the register said they were good," he speaks.
oh.
that's a weird feeling. one you don't think you've ever quite felt from something sakamoto has said to you.
it goes away when he hands you a pack of your favorite chips from the bag. 'probably why he went in, in the first place,' you think, as if to soothe yourself.
even as you tear into them, there's a lingering sting in your nose, almost like burning.
it never quite fully goes away.
taro sakamoto rarely goes out for the sake of it, much less alone.
so why is he leaving in the middle of the day?
you catch him as you're coming back from a mission, his favorite MRE from the association and some chinese takeaway for yourself. he doesn't look at you, standing on a nearby rooftop and watching in a baffled curiosity.
in a selfish moment, you follow, out of sight.
and you see him meet a girl.
a girl who looked so normal, so soft. not a single bone in her body was dangerous, her gaze never hardened past annoyance. she was so utterly everything that you weren't.
because she wasn't an assassin.
at first, you're angry: furious, even.
you think he's so stupid, choosing a weak woman knowing exactly what happens to people in his line of work. how could he, when you had been standing there waiting for so long?
but when you see the gentleness in the way he touches her arm, like he knows he can break her and it's the last thing he would ever want: it's hard to stay angry.
because she's beautiful and kind and so gloriously normal.
you lose your food on some random roof as you leave. the wind friction from how fast you're moving has tears forming in your eyes, or maybe they were from something else.
sakamoto doesn't seek you out. he doesn't hunt you down when you go on a mission without saying goodbye first. he doesn't show up on your doorstep with food after his hits. he doesn't bandage your wounds when the guilt gets to you and you let your target land a blow.
it doesn't surprise you when he retires.
since he met her, it had only been a matter of time.
you don't plead with him like nagumo does, you don't accept all the offers people make you for his head, you don't ever try to find him: even though he makes it so painfully easy to.
how could you?
he was happy, surely. and you weren't selfish enough to risk ruining it.
sakamoto always got everything he wanted, whether it be fame, money, power, or even his eventual family life. while you got stuck with the weight of what could've been, of everything that you let slip between your fingers because you were just too damn scared.
to him, your friendship was just a small thing that happened in his past as a hitman. to you, when it ended: so did the world with it.
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⚜️ ㅤ okkotsuus ㅤ 25
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m1ckeyb3rry · 8 months ago
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Idk if you were serious or not but I would love a Gagamaru fic where a shy/skittish reader wakes up from a nightmare & calls Gagamaru for comfort but our feral boy is on the move & just comes over instead & spends the night spooning y/n
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── NIGHTMARE
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Synopsis: Gagamaru has an unorthodox method of comforting you when you call him after a nightmare, but it works well enough that you can’t complain.
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BLLK Masterlist
Pairing: Gagamau x Reader
Chapter Word Count: 1.4k
Content Warnings: nightmares, scaredy-cat reader, gagamaru is a lil weird but he’s got his heart in the right place so we love him
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A/N: anon i NEVER joke about writing for obscure characters HAHA i will literally take any chance to do so hehe 🤩 i hope this is close to what you wanted anon!! i’ve literally never written gagamaru before so hopefully he’s not toooo ooc
Additional: check my pinned post to make sure i have requests open; after reading the rules, please feel free to make your own!
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For a moment, you couldn’t be sure why you were awake or where you were. All you knew was that your heart was racing and your palms were clammy and your blanket was stifling, so stifling, but when you went to cast it away a voice in the back of your mind screamed don’t!
You gasped when you remembered. There was a person in your room, standing at the foot of your bed, a shadowy figure with a malevolent aura that was smiling at you sinisterly, waiting for you to notice them so that they could — so that they could — you squeezed your eyes shut and burrowed yourself back under the covers, hugging your knees to your chest and doing your best not to move or breathe or think or anything.
As your thoughts slowed, you blinked, realizing that you had just woken up from a nightmare, and there was a high chance that the person wasn’t real. Creeping back out of the sheets, you took a deep breath and then, all at once, flung them aside and raced to the light switch, flicking it on and holding your hands out in front of you defensively.
There was nothing. Your room was undisturbed, but your heart was still pounding, and you could not bring yourself to go back to sleep, not when the dream had been so vivid. Leaving the lights on, you returned to your bed, sitting on the edge with your legs crossed, turning on your phone and wincing when you saw the time.
Gagamaru’s voice sounded the same when he picked up your call, though it was rough and slightly distorted, no doubt a symptom of the cell service wherever he was. It was thick with sleep, as well, and belatedly you remembered how careful he always was to get a proper amount of sleep.
“Hello, Y/N?” he said.
“Gagamaru,” you sniffed, glancing at the depths of your closet, which were dark and endless and almost certainly contained something or another of the frightening sort. “Hi.”
“Hi,” he said. “Did something happen?”
“No,” you said. “Yes. I can’t sleep.”
“This is why you shouldn’t be on your phone so late. Screens are bad for your eyes,” he said.
“It’s not that,” you said. “I had a nightmare.”
“Ah,” he said. “Like, you saw something scary in your sleep?”
“Yeah,” you said.
“Okay,” he said, and then, abruptly, the call ended. You frowned, and for a moment you were too bewildered to be frightened, but then the emptiness of the house became too overwhelming, the silence without his voice all but deafening. There was a noise from downstairs, creaking and ominous, and though you knew it was most likely just the groan of the house settling or the whine of the fridge, it made you whimper and dive back into the safety of your blankets, leaving the lights on as you stared up at the ceiling.
A few moments later, there was a knock on your window. You waited, hoping beyond hope that it was a figment of your overactive imagination, but right after that was a second knock. You squealed, scrambling backwards, your blankets pulled up to your face, your back pressed against the headboard, only your eyes peeping out so you could stare at the window.
“Y/N, it’s me!” The shout was muffled, but it was undoubtedly Gagamaru, and although you really shouldn’t have been surprised, you were still somehow confused as you crossed your room to open the window for him. 
“Gagamaru?” you said. He was hanging on your windowsill with an uncanny dexterity, and when he saw you, his face split into a wide grin. You stumbled backwards as he swung into your room, shutting the window behind him. 
“You told me you had a nightmare, so I came to see you,” he said. “Was that wrong?”
You and Gagamaru had been going to school together for a while now, but while the others had shunned him for his wild strangeness, you had found it to be entirely appealing. There was a sort of kindness in his inability to sugarcoat anything, and his bluntness contrasted so harshly with your skittish demeanor that it circled around into compatibility. The two of you had been friends almost since you had met, although recently, your relationship with him had grown beyond mere friendship into something more — something that wasn’t quite definable but definitely crossed the line into a closeness that you had never felt with another person before.
“It wasn’t wrong, just unexpected,” you said, already more at ease now that he was there. His mere presence, imposing like a beast, felt like enough to ward anyone off if he didn’t want them there. “Especially that you got here so fast.”
“I know how you are,” he said, flopping onto your bed. “I didn’t want you to be scared for even a moment longer than you had to be. Do you think you’ll be able to sleep if I’m here?”
“Maybe,” you said. “Let me turn off the lights and try.”
You fumbled your way back to the bed in the darkness, lying beside him, your back to his broad chest as you tried to close your eyes. He tossed a casual arm over your waist, exhaling softly, and though you did feel marginally better, you still couldn’t quite bring yourself to sleep.
“Not working?” he said.
“You could tell?” you said.
“Yeah,” he said. “Your breathing isn’t even enough for you to be asleep. Do you want to talk about it?”
“It was horrible,” you said, swallowing, moving so that you could hold onto his hand. “There was a man waiting to kill me. It wasn’t for any reason — he just thought it was funny. He was waiting for me to wake up and realize that I was about to die, and then he was going to do it.”
“Hm,” he murmured sleepily.
“Do you think I’m stupid?” you said, a tear dripping from your eyes and splashing onto your pillow. “It’s dumb to be this scared over a dream, isn’t it?”
“You’re not stupid,” he said. “That’s scary. If I had that dream, I’d probably be scared when I woke up, too.”
“I bet you wouldn’t stay this scared for so long,” you said.
“Nah,” he said. “But that’s not a bad thing. I can’t be scared because I’ve gotta look out for you. You know I won’t ever let anything hurt you, right?”
“Even that stupid dream?” you said. “What if it’s real?”
“I’ll beat him up,” Gagamaru mumbled into your hair, adjusting his grip on you so that he could run his fingers along your sides. “I’ve fought a bear before….do you think some guy is going to be anything?”
“I remember that,” you said, laughing softly. He had come into school that day with bandages on his ears and a bruise on his cheek and an effortless attitude, as if it was just another day for him, as if ordinary people also went around wrestling with bears. “You’re crazy.”
“It’s not that hard to do,” he said. “Can you sleep now?”
He used his free hand to cover your eyes, giving you no choice but to close them. You exhaled and found that it would not be so difficult at all.
“I think I can,” you said. “You’ll stay, right? If something happens, you’ll be here?”
“Yes,” he said. “Yes, of course I will be. Why would I tell you I’d look out for you and then leave?”
It wasn’t like you were any less frightened, but having Gagamaru by your side was a boost of confidence, enough of one that you could finally be comfortable with drifting off. Maybe it was true that someone might come and try to hurt you. Maybe you’d slip into another nightmare — but this time, when you woke up, it would be with him, and you didn’t think it would be so horrible if he was there.
“I guess you wouldn’t,” you said.
“I wouldn’t,” he affirmed, sounding barely-awake at this point. “Goodnight, Y/N.”
“Goodnight,” you said. “Thank you for coming all of this way.”
“Of course,” he said. “I always will. If you need me, I’ll be there, and that’s a promise.”
“I’ll hold you to it,” you said with a yawn. “I really will.”
“You do that,” he said, wrapping himself around you tighter. It was then, and only then, that you could finally settle into sleep — one thankfully free of anything but happier scenes, some of them even reminiscent of the first days that you had met Gagamaru.
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siriaeve · 2 months ago
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“We’ve never backed down from one of Andy’s challenges yet,” Joe said, setting down the second chair so that it faced the first in the middle of the room. “Why would we start now?”
“Because you’re trying to make better life choices?” said Nile from where she was still perched at the dining table.
Joe snorted.
“I mean, it could happen,” Nile said wryly as she popped one last piece of biscotti into her mouth.
“It’s important to keep our faith in the possibility of miracles, Nile,” Nicky said as he sat down in one of the chairs. It was rickety, like most of the furniture in this temporary safe house, and he had to balance carefully so that he wasn’t constantly toppling backwards and forwards.
“Even while we acknowledge certainties,” Joe said, sitting down opposite him. They were so close that their knees touched. “Such as the fact that I’m going to win.”
Nicky arched an eyebrow. “You are so sure of that, my love?”
“Oh my god,” Nile said under her breath, “are they actually going to trash talk one another about this?”
“Why do you think I challenged them?” Andy said as she doctored her coffee with a glug of vodka. “More entertaining than any TV show.”
Then, louder, Andy went on, “The rules are simple. Whichever one of you goes the longest without kissing the other is the winner. May the best man win.” She saluted them with her mug and then sat back in her chair, grinning.
Andy knew what Joe and Nicky would both readily have admitted about themselves: that they were deeply in love, and that they each had a competitive streak as wide as it was stubborn. Neither of them was going to make this easy.
Very deliberately, Nicky braced his elbows against his knees, leaned in towards Joe, and smiled ever so slightly.
“It’s not in any of the history books,” Andy said, taking a sip of her coffee, “but these two invented gay chicken.”
“Is it still gay chicken if they’re both gay?” Nile said, dubiously, even as Joe leaned in very close to Nicky in turn.
Their faces were now mere inches apart. Nicky’s eyes were sparkling and Joe’s lips were trembling and they kept erupting in little snorts of laughter, first one and then the other. Joe’s gaze flickered back and forth from Nicky’s eyes to his mouth.
“You’re an incurable romantic,” Nicky murmured.
“So I’ve been told,” Joe said. “And I will write ghazals and odes in your honour, light of my life, but I’m not going to kiss you.”
They stared at one another. The minutes ticked by.
“Am I the only one to think this is kind of weird?” Nile said.
Andy shrugged.
“Your eyes are very beautiful, my love,” Nicky said.
Joe took one of Nicky’s hands in his and started to rub gentle circles into the palm of Nicky’s hand with his thumb. “If they are, it is only because they are reflecting back your radiance, ya hayati.”
Nicky licked his lips.
Out of the side of her mouth, Andy said in a stage whisper, “Tactical move or a sign that he’s slipping?”
Nicky shifted just a bit in his chair and cocked his head to one side. He dimpled deliberately as he said, “But what light was there in my life, Yusuf, before I understood that you were the other half of my soul?”
“Oh brother,” Andy said with a sigh, casting her eyes up towards the ceiling.
“You started this,” Nile told her. “I was the one who said we could watch a movie or something.”
Neither Joe nor Nicky showed any sign of paying attention to either of them. They were intent entirely on one another now, Joe still clasping Nicky’s hand and the two of them curving close to one another, their lips scant inches apart.
“I’m impressed that you can remember so far back,” Joe said softly, “to our misspent youths, to before I knew how much my heart could love a wild-eyed, sword-wielding Frankish priest.”
“Flatterer,” Nicky breathed.
“But I’m not so up-to-date with my Christian theology,” Joe said, now so close that his beard rasped against Nicky’s stubble. He paused for a long moment, letting his breathing sync up with Nicky’s. “Do I still tempt a priest? Are we being scandalous right now? Do I lead you astray?”
Nicky pulled back a little, just enough to let him look down at their joined hands and then up through his lashes at Joe. “Scandal is only ever a stumbling block in the path of the faithful, my love. But perhaps after all this time, I am the one who has not learned to walk that path correctly.” He bit at his lower lip, making a show of letting it run through sharp teeth. “You might have to… instruct me.”
Andy cackled.
“You magnificent shit,” Joe breathed, delighted.
“How has it been twenty minutes already?” asked Nile.
“Are we allowed to take our shirts off?” Joe asked without looking away from Nicky. He waggled his eyebrows. Nicky snickered.
“Nope,” Andy said refilling her coffee cup.
“Oh my god,” said Nile in hollow tones.
“Ah,” Joe said, very earnestly to Nicky, “the judges believe I have a hotness advantage, Niccolò.”
“I would say that you have the thirst advantage,” Nicky said mildly.
“I am definitely thirsty,” Joe said.
“You are free to drink from my lips at any time, my love,” Nicky said.
“If they start composing poetry to one another,” Nile said, turning to Andy, “it’s on you.”
Andy’s eyes lit up with a spark of mischief. “Oh there’s an idea for the next time. A rap battle!”
Nile buried her head in her hands.
“Do not scoff, Nile,” Nicky said loyally. “My Joe could surely master this rapping skill if he put his mind to it. He is very talented, you know.”
Why this was the moment in particular that broke Joe’s resolve, who could say—only Joe knew, and he was too busy kissing Nicky—ardently, fiercely, Nicky’s cheeks cradled in his hands—to explain.
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stevie-petey · 4 months ago
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a cutesy fluff blurb w steve and bug for all the angst coming from the season 4 rewrite😭😭 i hate to see bug and steve go through all this but your writing is just so so so incredible that i’m just completely and utterly drawn to it.
i missed steve and bug so much so heres a fluffy blurb of everyone finding out theyre finally together <3
enjoy !
"steve and i are dating."
you hold your breath, bracing for impact. steve is frozen next to you, perched on the edge of the couch as if getting ready to run at the first sign of danger.
all week the two of you have agonized over this. telling everyone that youre now together was a given. obviously it wouldnt be a secret, but telling everyone seemed simple at first. now, with dozens of eyes staring at you: its terrifying.
especially when the news is met with complete and utter silence.
mike yawns. el and max stifle giggles.
"youre all shockingly quiet right now." you finally say, hating this immensely.
robin looks up at the ceiling, suddenly finding the wheelers basement a fascinating thing. will picks at the carpet beneath him and dustin taps his leg impatiently on the ground.
lucas, bless him, has the decency to smile at you. "thats great, y/n."
"did we..." steve scratches the back of his neck. "did we, uh. miss something?"
"why the hell is everyone acting so weird?" you butt in, now really starting to wonder if you and steve did something heinous to deserve the weird silent treatment.
jonathan shifts on the floor, and your eyes narrow at him instantly. crossing your arms, you jut your chin out at him. "fess up, byers. whats going on?"
his eyes widen slightly, and nancy, who is sitting next to him holding his hand, bites back a smile. your eyes narrow even more and jonathan finally releases a laugh.
"stop glaring at everyone, bug." he looks at you fondly. "i think we're all just wondering who won."
your face scrunches in confusion. "what...?"
dustin jumps up from his seat, sick of the anticipation. "just spit it out already! did i win? for the love of god, please tell me you guys got together on july 11th. please."
nancy raises her hand. "or july 16th. id prefer that date, actually."
"what about y/n's birthday? i thought everyone agreed my date made the most sense." will speaks up, looking eagerly at you.
an offended scoff escapes your mouth when you finally realize whats going on. "that bet seriously cant still be going on."
"answer the question, y/n!" dustin wails, practically choking on the taste of victory of the $30 that went into the betting pool. "when exactly did you and steve finally seal the deal, huh?"
"what the hell is this kid talking about?" steve looks around the room, completely confused. "why does it matter when we got together?"
jonathan explains before you can. "we all placed bets on when youd get together. lucas and max were out of the running a while ago. but me, nance, dustin, and will are still in."
"i, for one, am still personally offended that i wasnt allowed to join the bet when i found out about it." robin says, looking pointedly at him. "just so you know."
"sorry," jonathan says without any real sympathy. "rules are rules."
your face burns wildly. "y'all are insane and this is such a gross invasion of privacy-"
"screw privacy! tell me when steve found a pair of balls and asked you out." dustin stumbles in front of you and steve now, panting. "i need the money!"
"dustin!"
steve places his hands on his hips. "i already had balls, thank you very much."
you elbow him. "please stop talking."
"the kid was doubting my manhood-"
"do you enjoy having my elbow in your ribs?"
mike, no longer finding this conversation amusing, stands up and claps his hands. "alright, im bored. will," he turns to him. "clearly they didnt get together on y/n's birthday. they were locked in a death lair and not even steve is dumb enough to make their anniversary that date. so youre out."
steve wants to argue with him, but admittedly he cant.
mike then turns to dustin. "it wasnt july 11th, either. considering the fact that we had funerals to attend and we all know y/n's crippling guilt complex."
"hey!"
"hes not wrong, angel."
you elbow steve again and he doubles over in pain.
then mike turns to nancy. "and it wasnt july 16th because its currently the 27th and theres no way in hell harrington would be able to keep his mouth shut for that long."
again steve really wants to argue with mike, but, unfortunately, hes right.
mike finally turns to jonathan, sighing tiredly. "which leaves us with you and your guess of july 19th. aka: the only possible date left. wow, shocker! jonathan byers correctly guessed something about y/n henderson!" he spins around, glaring at you as if this somehow all your fault. "are we done here now?"
robin, not at all whispering quietly, leans over to max. "this kid has some serious issues."
"like you wouldnt believe," the girl mumbles. "trust me."
dustin shoves mike out of the way, inadvertently causing the teen to stumble into jonathan and fall on top of his sister. "hes wrong, right? please tell me hes wrong. y/n, im your brother. we are blood."
"well, technically mike is wrong. july 19th isnt when we got together." you begin to say, raising your voice when dustin starts to cheer wildly. "it was july 20th, so mike isnt wrong about jonathan winning."
two things happen at once.
first, dustin falls to his knees in despair, screaming in agony as max and el cover their ears and glare at him.
the second thing that happens is dustin regaining his senses and then tackling jonathan, with nancy and will right behind him.
its a mess of screams and screeches as jonathan tries to defend himself, but you simply press your back against steves chest and watch the storm unfold with slight vindication.
serves the fuckers right for betting on your private life like a game of poker.
"how much money do you think our relationship ended up being worth?" steve asks you, wincing under his breath when he sees dustin pinch jonathans nose.
"better be at least $20. if be offended if its anything less than that."
he laughs, the sensation of it sending vibrations down your own body. he kisses the crown of your head. "thats my girl."
"how did you know?" dustin has jonathan pinned now. "how do you always win?"
"get off me! it was just a lucky guess-"
"that was $30 you asshole!"
you hum, pleased. "think i can convince jonathan to give me some of his cut?"
steve laughs again. "only if you give me a percentage as well."
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xmalereader · 2 years ago
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Miguel O’Hara X Black Cat! Male Reader || 2 ||
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|| Masterlist ||
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Authors note: You all tempted me to make a second part…this one isn’t really a continuation but a small mini snippet of reader and Miles little dynamic again because you all enjoyed it! Again, Spanish words are mentioned, fluent and Latino myself. Also thank you for 6.8K followers!!
Summary: Reader is Black Cat in Miguel’s universe who is married to the leader of the spider society and who’s also taken a liking towards Miles who has invited him to his families party.
Warnings: Slight ATSV spoilers, fluff, angst, slight language, Spanish words ( fluent ), past experiences, dancing, parties, Miguel and reader have a moment, sarcasm, mentions of sex, second chances, found family.
Word count: 2.6k
- || Part One || Part Three ||
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“You want him to what?”
Miguel stared down at the fifteen year old, hands on his hips with a confused look on his face while also raising a brow. Clearly he didn’t understand the teens question nor did he want too.
“I want to invite Y/n to my fathers celebration of him becoming captain.” Repeated Miles with a faint and nervous smile on his face. After spending his time in the spider society he’s gotten adjusted to the routine in HQ and knew the rules that he wasn’t suppose to break and one was not to mess with Miguel or do anything to upset the man. Miles didn’t want to upset Miguel, but had no choice in asking for the mans permission in allowing Y/n to come over to his families party.
Due to Y/n being a thief and Miguels ex-ish husband he’s been under house arrest in HQ, meaning that he wasn’t allowed to leave HQ without Miguel’s permission even though the man had escaped many times and had been chased down by Miguel. The two chasing each other through different universe to the point where Miguel was tempted to chain the cat down due to constant escaping.
“You know he can’t leave.”
“Come on, Mig!” Y/n voice echos through the lab, getting both of their attention as he jumps down from the ceiling, emerging from the shadows as he wore his suit and lands a cat next to Miles before standing up straight and smirking at Miguel. “It’s just a party, I’ll behave.” He purrs out in a teasing matter, knowing how much his husband hated it but also loved it at the same time.
Miguel glared at him, baring his fangs as he opens his mouth to protest only for Y/n to beat him to it. “Why don’t you come too? You can keep an eye on me?” He suggests, getting Miguel to close his mouth as the other man thinks.
Y/n raises his brows in surprise, not believing that the man would actually think about the idea as he glanced down at Miles who shrugs in return. It only took Miguel a few minutes before he’s agreeing to the idea. “Very well.”
“Yes!” Miles fist bumps the air as he jumps in excitement, turning to Y/n with a large smile on his face. “My parents are going to love you!”
“Don’t you think they will find it weird or suspicious that their fifteen year old son is hanging around someone nearing their thirties who is also a thief?” Y/n questions, a bit worried on how Miles parents would think about him being around their son, clearing not knowing that he was Spider-Man who was being trained under the cities number one thief who Miguel despised.
“Nah, they’ll like you. Just work your charm on them.” Said Miles, getting the black cat to grin at his words. “I’ll be charming for sure.”
Miguel groans at his words, rolling his eyes. “Before you two go, I need you to do a mission for me as pay back for forcing me to go with you.”
“Technically you weren’t invited.” Miles mumbled under his breath, but loud enough for both adults to hear.
“What did you say?” Miguel sharply turns to Miles while Y/n holds back a laugh, covering his mouth and looking away as Miles quickly says ‘nothing’.
Y/n swallows down his laughter and clears his throat while winking at the kid and bumping his shoulder in a humorous manner before the two focused back on Miguel. “You two should never be in the same room together.” Said Miguel earning himself an eye roll from Y/n as he placed his hand no his hip. “Yeah, well you can’t get rid of my kid. I found him and he’s mine now.”
“You can’t just claim some kid.”
“Well I just did!”
The two adults began to argue, again. The usual routine for many spiders.
Whenever Y/n and Miguel were together they always found a way to break into an argument, fighting like a married couple and growing heated with each other. Clearly everyone in the room can feel the sexual tension between the two that a couple of traumatized spiders may or may not have walked in on the two before, causing them to avoid Miguel at all times. Too embarrassed to face the man who was balls deep into his husband.
The two have tried to be careful more often, but sometimes when their letting out their frustrations on each other it tends to be on the most random time of the day and random place.
Miles can only watch the two, going back and forth at the two before checking his own watch to see the time. “Oh no! I forgot about the cakes—gotta go! See you tonight!” Miles quickly shouts out as he ran out of the lab, leaving both Miguel and Y/n on their own as the two watch Miles run out of the lab.
“Well, I guess my house arrest is lifted.” Y/n uses his pointer finger to tap Miguel on the check in a mocking matter before taking steps backwards and making his way towards the exit. “See you tonight!”
“The mission—!”
“Find someone else, sweetheart!” Y/n laughs out as he uses his own watch to open a portal into Miles universe, jumping through and appearing back in his penthouse that he was able to purchase with the things he stole, humming to himself happily as the portal closed behind him, finally giving him the privacy to remove his suit and get himself prepared for Miles family party. He wasn’t one to socialized, but for Miles he would do anything for that kid.
After the discovery of Miguel and Y/n’s relationship and that fact that he was a variant of a familiar thief to many spidermen, he wasn’t too surprised when they would all give him cautious stares. Later finding out that many of the black cats that they’ve met had either betrayed or used their Spider-Man in order to get what they wanted. It surprised everyone when they found out that he was far more different than they thought.
Very little knew about his and Miguels relationship; they worked in their universe and loved each other. Still do.
Many of the black cats became a thief or who they are now due to a poor life or wanting to help a family figure while Y/n became who he was due to the death of Miguels daughter, needing to find an escape from the grief and found relief in stealing.
He was still loyal to Miguel, not once did he bat an eye for another man or women always wearing his wedding ring underneath the gloves he wore. Both Miguel and Y/n can argue all they want and claim that they can’t stand each others presences but the universe always brought them back together, it was their canon.
While Y/n got ready for the party he tried his best not to overdress, wearing something less formal and more casual and also making sure that he always came with something not wanting to show any bad manners as he took the extra time to bake some cookies for the party and smiled proudly at his own work once he was done and ready.
He didn’t need Miles address, clearly already knowing where the kid lived as he made his way through the streets of New York and towards Miles apartment building where he can hear the loud music playing and the sound of laughter above him, making him tilt his head back a bit to see some lights hanging on the side of the building.
“Going in?”
He’s startled by Miguels voice, turning around to come face to face with his husband. “Wha—whoa…” Y/n’s eyes slowly widen, his pupils dilating when the land on him, taking in his casual wear that he hasn’t seen in a while always seeing him in his spider suit and working.
“You look—“
Miguel raised a brow while grinning slowly.
“Good.” Y/n finishes, clearing his throat and trying to mask the blush rising to his cheeks and focused back on why they were here. “We should head in before Miles starts calling me to hurry up.” He held the tray of cookies in his hands and ignores Miguel's chuckle as the two walk inside the apartment building and making their way up the stairs. Now, Y/n was a known thief and skilled fighter and could take down a group of men on his own and yet somehow, he couldn’t face a simple party full of nice people and possibly gossip.
“Estas nervioso?”
Y/n swallows, looking over his shoulder to see Miguel staring at him with the softest look one that he knew too well. “Focus on your breathing and only think about how fast this will go by.” Miguel whispers near his ear, leaning forward while the other sighs deeply, giving himself a small reassured nod before the two step through the door and onto the crowded rooftop where they are greeted with music, laughter, and couples dancing.
“You made it!”
Y/n looks up ahead to see Miles pushing through the crowd as he waves his hands in the air with excitement, stumbling in his step and nearly tripping over himself and Y/n is quick to catch the kid, extending an arm out and catching him. “Whoa, easy kid. I get that your excited, we technically see each other every day.”
“I know, but we’re usually doing hero stuff. This is different.” Miles was smiling widely, eyes full of enthusiasm which doesn’t go unnoticed by the black cat himself. “Guess you’re right about that.”
“I still have to keep an eye on you.”
Miguels voice startles the two, clearly forgetting about his quiet presence. “Geez, maybe you should wear a bell you are quieter than me.” States Y/n, still not used to the fact of Miguel being quieter than him.
“You should wear that bell, not me.” Miguel shot back as Y/n sticks his tongue out at him in a childish manner.
“Miles!”
The three turn towards the direction of the voice only to see Miles mother approaching her son with a faint smile. “Mijo, did you invite these two?” She asks with a kind smile on her face, hand on her sons shoulder.
Miles suddenly grows bashful as he scratched the back of his neck nervously. “Mom this is Y/n, who I told you about and his Husband Miguel.” He introduces, catching his mother by surprise. “Oh! You’re Y/n—Miles talks fondly of you, I didn’t expect you to be so…” She can’t form the words but Y/n expected this reaction.
“Older? I know, I’ve told Miles that you would be worried to know that his son is hanging around someone twice his age but no worries I treat him like family and make sure that he isn’t causing any trouble for his parents.”
Miles Mother chuckled. “Thank you for keeping an eye on him, you can call me Rio.”
“Likewise.” He holds the plate of cookies out to her with a smile. “I didn’t want to come empty handed its bad manners.”
“Wow, how nice of you. Please help yourselves with anything.”
Y/n nods at her words and turns back to Miles when she walks away to place the cookies with the rest of the food. “See? Not so bad.”
“Wait until you meet my dad.”
Miguel suddenly speaks up. “Why do I feel weird not being acknowledged?”
“Because, women know everything. One look is all it takes and they know everything, its scary. She probably immediately knew about your true intentions with me.” He points an accusing finger at him as Miguel scoffs. “We’re married.”
“Technically divorced.”
“I see no divorce papers.” He crossed his arms over his chest, smirking at Y/n who glared up at him. “I’ll fuck you up.” He threatens which Miguel only finds adorable.
It didn’t take long for them to meet Miles father who was kind but also protective of his son, interrogating him a bit until Y/n works his charm and provides the new chief a gift, congratulating him on his new position and wishing him luck. His sudden flattery gets the teens father all flustered and speechless as he accepts the gift and him. Gaining the trust of both parents and getting the chance to know them further.
The party went on longer than any usual party, everyone was happily chatting away with their own family and friends while others danced to the music. The amount of excitement gets to Y/n, dragging Miguel onto the dance floor as the two danced away to Merengue music. It took Y/n some time to adjust to the fast pace while Miguel got it on the spot, making Y/n jealous by how fast he adapts to the music and dancing.
Miguel takes him by the waist and pulls him in close, the two panting heavily from the dancing as Y/n laughs. “Curse you and your Mexican genes.” Miguel chuckled. “Not my fault I dance better than you.” The two laugh, breathless from their dancing before moving away from the dance floor and much more private area where the music wasn’t too loud, finding their way on the edge of the roof top, sitting next to each other as they looked at the view ahead of them.
“I missed this.” Y/n voice is soft and genuine, eyes still focused on the city as Miguel glanced at him, licking his lips. “Parties?”
Y/n chuckles. “No, us.”
This causes a small faint smile to appear on Miguels lips as Y/n kept talking. “I missed feeling like this, so free and happy…I know we had our difficulties in the past and we lost so much.” He turns to face Miguel. “I don’t want to argue anymore or let the past catch up to us. I know—you miss her. I do too, believe me the amount of times I couldn’t stop thinking about her whenever I see things that remind me of her, but I know that she would want me to move on to start over again and I did.” He nods over his shoulder towards the group of people who were full of happiness and smiling faces, towards Miles who had his face buried in his hands as his parents speak about his embarrassing moments, getting the kid flustered.
Y/n sighs contently, turning back to face Miguel who was staring at the crowd before him, taking in his husbands words as he sighs with a small nod. “You make it look so easy.”
“But its not.” Y/n says. “It never will.”
Miguel lets out a dry chuckle his finger fidgeting nervously with his wedding ring. He’s suffered the most with the lose of his daughter. When he first introduced his daughter to Y/n when they were first dating, he was nervous at first only for Y/n to quickly fall in love with her, taking care of her as a parent and being there when Miguel couldn’t, deepening their relationship even more. Miguel had the family he always wanted only for him to lose it in a matter of seconds after his daughters death, pushing Y/n away and creating useless arguments with each other not knowing that he was pushing away the only person he ever had left.
Now, here he sat. Being given a second chance to start over.
“I’m willing to try.” Miguel whispers, getting Y/n’s attention who smiled at is husband, reaching out to take his hand into his own. “Don’t worry, I’ll help you on the way.”
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the-final-sif · 6 months ago
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Okay, so I understand a lot of people don't like spiders in their home, but I have a different policy with them. My rules are simply that as long as the spider remains up on the ceiling with it's web, then it's fine and I won't bother it. If it starts getting into my space or on the floor where my bird could get to it, then it gets escorted outside.
There is a single exception to this rule, which is the spider in my bathroom. Or rather, the web in my bathroom. It's on the floor in a corner, and I kept meaning to clean it up but forgetting to, and in the end got attached to the spider maintaining it's web.
Why? Because it was a total loser.
I'm not sure if it's the location or what, but somehow despite my house having plenty of bugs caught in other locations, I have never seen a single insect caught in that web. Not once!!
I assumed, that at some point the spider would realize it had picked a bad spot and go away. Eventually, it did! It took nearly a month though, and I planned on waiting a few days to see if it was really gone so I didn't accidentally vacuum it up.
Only, then it got weird.
Because on day 2, I enter my bathroom, and there's a new spider on the web.
Now, I am no spider expert, but this was very much a different spider. Whole new species. Lighter in color and thinner. Though still decently sized.
At this point I'm at a loss, but I decide to give it a few more days for this spider to also realize that it's found a dumb web.
That spider stuck around for another month before finally giving up, still not catching a single bug in it's entire stay.
I don't think it was even maintaining the web properly, the damn thing is all dusty and aged now, you can see it easily. But it still took a month to give up!
I wait a few days again, and this time in under 24 hours, a third spider that is very much not either of the other two takes over. I see him on it, and I gave him a very judgemental look for picking such poor hunting space.
Like, it's not like my house doesn't have prime spots! The spider by the bathroom window has made out like a bandit catching flies!! She's on top of her game! But no, three different spiders all looked at this dumbass corner like "yeah, this is really gonna work out for me".
That third spider finally gave up after two, nearly 3 months. And it's now been a few days without a fourth moving in, so I am finally cleaning up this pathetic excuse of a web. This stupid thing has been here for four or five months now and I have never seen it catch a single bug. Truly an example of the absolute most pathetic of spiderkind.
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raikkxz · 1 year ago
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WALK HIM LIKE A DOG 4 — JB22 .ᐟ.ᐟ
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ᯓ ˚₊➷ ❛. . . in which sebastian vettels sister gets her dream job to work along with him, but stumbles across an infamous playboy ❜ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁
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★ 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃﹕﹙ yes/no - here ﹚ — 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒﹕﹙hungover reader, purpose use of lowercase letters only, use of y/n, i'm lowk not very sure, probably not proof read well, lmk if there's anything i missed!!﹚ — 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆[s]﹕﹙jenson button 22 x f!vettel!reader﹚ — 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓﹕﹙not much. like at all.﹚ ★ 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐎﹕﹙yall i need requests im out of ideas﹚
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˚ ₊ · ͟͟͞͞➳ — ꒰ prev // pinned post // masterlist // taglist // rules // next ꒱
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YOU WOKE UP with a pounding headache. you could hear your alarm going off. groaning, you turned over in your bed to turn off the alarm. but to your surprise, you accidentally bumped into jenson, who seemed to have fallen asleep in your bed last night, instead.
jenson stirs, eyes opening half-way. "..morning." he murmurs sleepily. "how'd you sleep, love?"
*furrowing your eyebrows, you stammer." "..did i- did we- why are you-?"
"relax, darling." jenson hums. "you drank a *little* too much last night. and no, we didn't do any of the sort. you didn't answer my question."
"i slept.. well, i have a bad headache." you groan, laying back.
"stay her, ill get you more water." jenson assures you, getting up. he leaves the room and head to the kitchen to see sebastian there. jenson raises his eyebrows.
"good morning to you too. did you and my sister..?"
"no no no, it's not like that." jenson mumbles. "shes hungover as fuck, i was just.. taking care of her, alright?"
sebastian gives him a suspicious look, but shrugs it off as he leans on the counter, sipping his coffee.
"uhh, so do you and y/n live together?" jenson asks as he fills up a glass of water.
"oh no, im just staying with her for the time being until the next race comes up." sebastian says.
"ah, nice, i see." jenson nods before going back to your room. "hey, you alright?"
"yeah, i think.." you mumble, drinking your water. "my stomach feels like the insides are all twisted up."
jenson chuckles softly. "rest more, love. you need it."
you lay there for a few minutes, staring up at the ceiling with jenson next to you.
"..hey, jense?" you ask after a few minutes.
"yeah?" he responds immediately.
"thank you." you mumble, turning to him. "thank you for taking care of me."
jenson smiles, pushing your hair away from your face. "anything for a pretty girl like you." he teases.
you laugh, nudging him playfully. "you're a dick."
"oh c'mon, you love me!" jenson grins.
"i do." you giggle.
jenson looks at you tenderly, his eyes filled with adoration.
"augh, this is worse than cramps." you grumble, twisting and turning in bed. you take another sip of water. jenson pushes the hair away from your face, making sure it didn't get in the way. you smile, appreciating the gesture.
"did i do anything.. *weird* last night?" you ask, breaking the silence.
"does dancing like crazy count? to be fair, i've met many people who've done that, so i don't know if that falls into the 'weird' category." jenson teases. you laugh softly, your head falling back.
"i suppose not, but my dancing is definitely crazy." you say jokingly.
"nah, you're definitely better than me." jenson laughs.
"..thanks again, jense. you're an amazing friend." you hum.
jenson smiles, but there's a hint of sadness in his eyes.
you furrow your eyebrows. "is something wrong?"
jenson purses his lips, looking away. "somewhere along the way, you became more than just a friend. i can't keep pretending i love you only as a friend."
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★ 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐎﹕﹙i tried adding more dialogue but like i said im out of ideas smhh. i might discontinue the series atp 😭﹚ ౨ৎ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓﹕ ﹙@gray4youuu @c-losur3 @ujws5 @namgification @faithshouseofchaos @isurvived3-11andimproud @somebodyonce-toldme @44lewico﹚
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˚ ₊ · ͟͟͞͞➳ — ꒰ prev // pinned post // masterlist // taglist // rules // next ꒱
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notes, comments, reblogs, feedback and follows are greatly appriciated!
!! PLEASE DO NOT REPOST ON OTHER WEBISTES/APPS OR COPY MY ORIGINAL WORK !!
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